


Why Did It Have To Be Sparkles?

by fishystrawberries



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Everyone is Bisexual, Fantasizing, Flirting, Humor, Innuendo, Light Dom/sub, Mentioned Jenkins | Galahad, Multi, OT3, Quarantine, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Sex Pollen, Sexual Humor, Sexual Tension, Voyeurism, everyone is horny, excessive use of em dashes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:54:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29018532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishystrawberries/pseuds/fishystrawberries
Summary: “And really,” Jenkins added, his eyeroll visible through the visor on his full-body protective suit, “Eros Spores are basically harmless; it’s not like you’re going todie.”There was a pause as four Librarians and one Guardian could only stare at him, dumbfounded, through the thoroughly-barricaded doors.“Really!” he continued. “The nature of the spores is to sort themselves out on their own, so to speak, no lasting damage to worry about. I’ll be back to check on you all in, oh, three hours should do it?”—When the team gets doused with mysterious magical sparkles, things start to heat up—literally. Now they’re quarantined in the Annex with only each other for company... Who knows what they might get up to?
Relationships: Cassandra Cillian/Ezekiel Jones, Cassandra Cillian/Ezekiel Jones/Jacob "Jake" Stone, Cassandra Cillian/Jacob "Jake" Stone, Eve Baird/Cassandra Cillian, Eve Baird/Flynn Carsen, Ezekiel Jones/Jacob "Jake" Stone
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16
Collections: Unfinished





	1. In Which Jenkins Dons a Hazmat Suit

Eve Baird woke up to find herself laying out across the central table in the Annex, and she had no idea how she got there. One second she and Flynn had been raiding some... ancient temple? Pyramid?—the next second, she was awake on the table. Only the fact that she was now regaining consciousness let her know that she had ever lost consciousness, because she had no memory of that happening. 

Eve became aware that her body felt—well, not sore, but different. Tingly, maybe. Like soda pop had replaced all her internal organs. It wasn’t altogether unpleasant, but it did make her wonder exactly what happened between the time when she and Flynn had been out in—was it Greece? Italy? Someplace Mediterranean, she was pretty sure—between being out there, and waking up here. 

She craned her head to the side, catching sight of Flynn. He had replaced his usual dress shirt with what seemed to be a deafening neon orange Hawaiian number. Ah yes, that was his typical I-Am-Definitely-On-Vacation shirt, the one he saved for when he was someplace vacation-y on Library business but planned to relax at least a tiny bit with Eve. So they had definitely been somewhere Mediterranean, then. Someplace with... stone ruins, where Flynn stood out in that shirt...

Flynn was talking to Jenkins. Eve couldn’t see her Librarian’s face from here, but Jenkins had his usual frown on. 

“...and then the trap sprung, and she got hit with these, these, red sparkles? I feel like I should know what they are! I didn’t see which of the statues it was that flung them—I was in the middle of translating the inscription, and you know, the funny thing with that specific dialect of Ancient Greek is that it either said we were in a ‘room of worship’ or it said we were in a room of, let’s say, ‘fornication’, and let me tell you, those two things are—“

“Sorry to interrupt, sir,” Jenkins said, not looking very sorry at all to be interrupting. “But did you say a statue flung these ‘red sparkles’? That does sound familiar... How many statues were there?”

“Oh, there were at least sixteen main ones and a dozen smaller cherubs surrounding the room. We were right in the centre where the inscription was on the altar, but the main statues were all of the typical twelve Olympian gods, plus some extra ones that were important. But again, I wasn’t facing Eve to see which statue it was.”

“Hmph,” Jenkins said, and paused. Eve couldn’t see his face anymore but he appeared to be thinking hard. “Actually, sir, I think I may know which it was.” Another pause. “Would you excuse me a moment?”

Without waiting for an answer, Jenkins left the Annex. At least, he left the part of the Annex that Eve could see. With Jenkins gone, Eve noticed Cassandra, Stone, and Ezekiel where they had been standing behind him. 

The statue thing definitely sounded familiar. A stone chamber in the middle of the temple—in Greece, yes, she was sure of that now—and one of the statues had flung red sparkles at her. That did happen! But it didn’t fling them at her, it had more... wafted them at her, before she’d had time to duck out of the way. Flynn had been concerned with the big important statues, but Eve had been at least a little suspicious of all of them. 

She rolled her head back to stare up at the ceiling, a movement that caught the LITs’ eyes. “Eve’s awake!” came Cassandra’s voice, and then the three of them and Flynn were surrounding her. Someone’s hand was on her shoulders, trying to help her sit up. 

“How’re you feeling?” It was Flynn’s voice; he was gentle as he lifted her. Eve sat with her legs dangling off the table, and gave them all a distracted nod of thanks.

“Tingly,” she said honestly. 

“Sorry, am I hearing that right? Tingly?” It was Ezekiel, who looked like he was trying not to laugh. “Tingly how?” 

“I don’t know,” Eve said, looking at her hands. They didn’t look any different. Or did they? Were they still sparkling? “How long was I out?” 

“Oh, Flynn pulled you through the back door ‘bout five or six minutes ago,” said Stone, shooting a sharp look at Ezekiel, who still looked far too entertained by the situation. 

“Flynn says you were attacked by sparkles?” Cassandra was wide-eyed. 

“Sparkles,” Eve repeated with a frown. She glanced at Flynn. “Yeah, sparkles. What was that?”

Flynn was frowning back. “It sounds familiar, but I actually don’t know. I sent Jenkins back to research it. He implied that the statue that, ah, flung them at you, that’s important. Do you remember which god it was?”

“Which god?”

“Yeah, god, you know, Hermes, Athena, Poseidon? Did it have feathery shoes?”

“Oh, um, it wasn’t one of the big statues, actually, it was one of the little flying babies.”

“What, the cherubs?”

“Yeah, sure, cherubs. You were busy doing, whatever, with the inscription—“

“I was deciphering an ancient dialect—“

“—and then I mean I’ve seen enough Doctor Who to know you can’t trust a room full of statues, so I was circling them to make sure none of them was going to attack us or anything.”

“But then one did,” supplied Ezekiel. 

“I suppose so,” said Eve, holding her hands up to the light. Were they sparkling? If anything, they seemed to be trailing sparkles through the air as she lifted them. No one else seemed to have noticed, though. She must just be seeing what she expected to see. “Although, did it really _attack_? I mean, nothing seems to have happened, sparkles or no sparkles.” 

The Librarians didn’t look convinced. “I still feel like I should know what those sparkles are,” Flynn said again. He began counting on his fingers. “Ancient forgotten Greek temple, cherub statues, inscription about worship-slash-sex, red sparkles—“

“ _Spores!_ ” came Jenkins’ shout. 

“What?” Eve called back. “Spores? Like fungus?”

“They’re spores! They’re called Eros Spores! That’s where you two ended up, the temple of Eros!” 

Jenkins was still yelling from outside the Annex itself—in fact, they couldn’t quite tell where he was yelling from. He sounded a bit panicked, though. That couldn’t be a good thing. 

Stone frowned. “Eros,” he said slowly, “Eros is—or, was—the Greek god of desire. Child of Aphrodite, goddess of love. The Romans turned him into Cupid, you know: baby, shoots people, makes them fall in love.”

“So Baird got sprinkled with some lovey dovey sparkles? That doesn’t sound too bad,” said Ezekiel, who still looked delighted. 

“Well, that’s the thing,” said Stone. “That’s Cupid. Eros is all about raw desire.”

“So... sex?” said Cassandra. 

“Yeah. That’s where we get the word _erotic_. And apparently,” and now Stone looked up at Eve, “Colonel Baird’s been hit with something called Eros Spores, and god knows what those do.”

“I don’t feel any different!” Eve said, and was a bit embarrassed by how defensive she felt. She did feel different, though. Tingly. And warm, now, too—not feverishly warm, but warm like she’d had a happy amount of alcohol. Actually, come to think of it, she felt... pretty great! Maybe the six minute power nap on the table was just what she needed to feel rejuvenated. 

“Maybe you don’t feel different yet, but I’m guessing you’re gonna be getting pretty horny.” Ezekiel snickered. Eve glared at him, Stone rolled his eyes, and Cassandra turned pink and squeaked his name. 

Eve looked back at Flynn to see what he had to say, but he was staring into the middle distance. “And you? What’re you thinking about?” 

Flynn opened his mouth to answer but shook his head when no sound came out. He gestured vaguely. When Eve didn’t look away, he tried again. “Uh, well, I’m just thinking about the concept of spores. So, this magic statue has magic ‘Eros Spores’ and you set off some trap and get blasted with them, right? Well, usually spores—they’re part of the life of fungus, they have a life cycle. But these are magic spores. So do they become a fungus? Does their life cycle necessarily involve being ingested by some, you know, lovely Guardian protecting her dashing Librarian? Are they meant to spread via statue? Or spread via... hm.” He stopped. 

“What do you mean, spread?” asked Ezekiel. “Like, are you asking if they’re conta—“

He was interrupted by the sound of the Annex’s glass doors slamming shut. The whole group jumped and swivelled to see Jenkins, who was standing formally behind the now locked exit.

Oh, and he was wearing a Hazmat suit. 

“Jenkins!” Eve shouted, swinging off the table and striding to the doors. “What the hell are you doing?”

“A simple precaution, Colonel.” Jenkins’ calm voice was muffled by both the neon yellow Hazmat suit and the doors themselves—doors that he was now barricading with carts filled with books. “Mr Carsen is correct; Eros Spores have a tendency to be contagious.”

“Contagious?! And what’s that supposed to mean for us, there, mate? Don’t know if you noticed, but we haven’t got on your banana suits,” said Ezekiel.

“Yeah,” said Stone. “Aren’t you gonna let the rest of us out before you start barricading the doors?”

“I’m afraid not, Mr Stone,” said Jenkins. “It’s already too late at this point. And really,” he added, his eyeroll visible through the visor on his full-body protective suit, “Eros Spores are basically harmless; it’s not like you’re going to _die_.” There was a pause as four Librarians and one Guardian could only stare at him, dumbfounded, through the thoroughly-barricaded doors. “Really!” he continued. “The nature of the spores is to sort themselves out on their own, so to speak, no lasting damage to worry about. I’ll be back to check on you all in, oh, three hours should do it?”

At that the five people trapped in the Annex all began shouting and banging furiously on the glass of the doorway, but Jenkins only nodded once and walked away. Stone tugged on the door handle: it didn’t budge. 

“Now what?” said Cassandra. “We’re just trapped in here, and we’re supposed to get infected with Baird’s sparkles?” 

They all looked at Eve. Admittedly, with the shock of Jenkins’ pronouncement already wearing off, she found wasn’t as upset as the others about being trapped in the Annex with her Librarians—to be honest, she was finding herself thinking some surprisingly naughty things about the situation. Imagine what they could do for three whole unsupervised hours... That’s a normal thing to think, right? 

“Hey, don’t look at me!” Eve said, waving her arms. “What, like I’m going to wave my arms and suddenly everyone’s going to be covered in red sparkles?” 

...Aw, crap.


	2. In Which Flynn Hits His Head

Flynn Carsen woke up to find himself laying on the floor of the Annex. He kept his eyes shut for a few moments, assessing his surroundings. Even in the safety of the Library, he still abided by the reflexes that kept him alive in the years before Eve came along. He could hear nothing but calm breathing, all coming from his left side, and the floor underneath the bare skin of his hands was warm—so he’d been here for at least a few minutes. 

Eyes still shut, Flynn tried to go over the events of the day; his mind was a bit foggy. Just this morning—was it really only a few hours ago?—he and Eve had taken the Back Door to a tiny, rural village in southern Greece, and after some investigating had found a path through the mountains to find the ancient and yet undisturbed temple. It had been carved deep into a cliff-face and skylights, natural or otherwise, allowed enough light in for them to see, enough light for plants to grow. In the central chamber with the sixteen towering statues of gods and the dozen smaller cherubs there had been vines growing over nearly everything, beautiful red flowers in full bloom. That’s where all this had started: when Flynn had knelt to decipher the inscription to find out whose temple this was, Eve had been hit with those red sparkles—the Eros Spores. 

Eros Spores which now infected him, too. 

Well, had Eve reacted to them at all? Her behaviour hadn’t struck him as different than usual, except for the part where, you know, more sparkles suddenly lifted off her skin and wafted right over to where he and the LITs had been standing. Knocking him out. Knocking them out too, probably. Eve had also been unconscious when he’d dragged through the Back Door keyed to the temple’s entrance. 

Ok, so the first symptom was that you pass out for a bit, apparently. What came next? If he could figure out the pattern of symptoms, he might be able to predict the next ones and plan accordingly so that they could “sort themselves out”, as Jenkins had so descriptively put it. That meant seeing how Eve was doing. 

Wiggling his toes and fingers, Flynn opened his eyes and blinked a few times against the light as he found himself looking up at the bottom of the central table. He couldn’t see Eve from here, so he shifted his weight and rolled onto his left side to push himself up—and found Eve right beside him, staring him in the eyes, her face not three inches from his own. 

“Holy _crap!_ “ he yelped, and he flinched upward so hard that he slammed his head against the bottom of the desk and shouted again. Then he cried out once more as in the very same second he ricocheted back down and hit the floor with his shoulder.

Rubbing at what was sure to become a bump on his head, Flynn squinted up at his Guardian, who had just watched him get hurt twice and didn’t even beat anything up, which he was pretty sure went entirely against her job description. She had quickly gotten over the shock of Flynn’s sudden flurry of movement and yelling and was now curled in on herself, laughing so hard it was silent. The laugh was adorable—and contagious—and Flynn was chuckling himself as he stood up and dusted himself off. 

Eve slid out from where she’d been laying under the table and behind her, Flynn saw, were Cassandra, Ezekiel, and Jake, their legs protruding out from the shadows, all still breathing peacefully. It seemed the noise hadn’t woken them. 

Flynn had meant to say, _How long have we been out?_ but somehow, “Why did you put us under the table?” ended up being the first thing to come out of his mouth. 

Eve shrugged nonchalantly and Flynn noticed that her button up shirt was gone and she was instead wearing only a tight black tank top with her Mild-Climate-Adventure leggings. “I thought it’d be less of a tripping hazard that way. Plus it was fun to scare you,” she added, her eyes alight with mischief. 

Flynn gestured widely toward his head. “That was planned?” Damn, still not the question he‘d been trying to ask. 

“Yep—or, well, I heard the change in your breathing when you woke up. I just waited for you to roll over.”

“I see,” Flynn said, and then paused. “Uh, and where’d your shirt go?” Goddamn, he needed to track her symptoms to predict his own, not get distracted by her bare shoulders. 

Eve studied her (beautiful, muscular) arms as though looking for more sparkles. “It’s just over on your desk, I took it off because it got really hot in here. Didn’t you notice?”

Flynn had not noticed anything of the sort. As far as he knew it was the exact same temperature as it had been before he passed out—right, that was supposed to have been his first question. “How long have we been out?” 

“Oh, maybe ten minutes or so—you were out first, and I caught you and set you down. Then Cassandra passed out and I caught her too, and then went the other two, whom I’ll admit I didn’t quite catch. I got bored after the first few minutes of waiting so I decided to join you four under the table. It’s cooler down on the floor, anyway.”

Okay, ten minutes of being unconscious, that was about in line with what had happened to Eve... From what he could tell, the next symptom seemed to be increase in body temperature. Flynn leaned forward and pressed an experimental kiss to Eve’s temple, and to his surprise her face turned scarlet, flushed down to her neck, and she pulled away giggling. She didn’t have a fever, she wasn’t clammy or too cold, but something was definitely... off, about her demeanour. Eve had her goofy moments, but now she seemed positively giddy. 

Flynn only had a moment to ponder this before the silence was broken by the sound of Cassandra stirring back under the table. Eve immediately snapped to attention, holding up a finger to Flynn, and then with another mischievous smile she silently slid herself back under the table; her feet, Flynn noticed, were also bare. 

He turned to the books on his desk with an amused shake of the head, and a moment later he was startled by a tiny shriek from Cassandra as she no doubt rolled onto her side to find Eve’s face mere inches from her own. 

——

Cassandra Cillian, to her credit, didn’t react quite as violently as Flynn had and was spared the same bump on her head when she discovered Eve Baird laying beside her, staring her in the eyes. Cassandra cried out ever-so-slightly, but quickly regained her composure. “Eve!” she hissed, whispering in the quiet of the library. “What are you doing? Why are we on the floor? Why does my head feel like pop rocks?”

Eve lay beside her—they were under the table?—and her head rested on an arm folded beneath her, looking carefree and relaxed. Her arms were bare in a tank top, and she looked at Cassandra through her eyelashes in a way that Cassandra had never seen before. Eve hummed softly through slightly parted lips, and Cassandra tried not to focus on the way her chest rose and fell with the breath. “Eve? Are we under here because of the sparkles?” She could hear gentle breathing behind her; Jake and Ezekiel must still be asleep. Was Flynn already awake then? ”I’m guessing we passed out too.”

Eve wet her lips and, still looking at Cassandra with a bemused sort of expression, said, “You did—but don’t worry, I caught you.” Her voice was huskier than usual. Cassandra... she found that she liked that. Found herself watching Eve’s lips, even while wondering why, exactly, she would do that. 

“How long have we been out?” Cassandra breathed, trying to keep her voice steady. She felt different. Was her face getting warm? She hoped she wasn’t blushing... she was warm all over, actually. The temperature in the room must’ve gone up. And Eve was still laying there, only inches away from her face, and neither of them had made a move to pull away; and her arms were bare and she was still looking at Cassie in a way that was unusual but that, she had to admit, was contributing to the warm, tingly feeling enveloping her body. 

“Only about ten minutes,” Eve breathed back, her voice as soft as Cassandra’s. “I carried you under here so you’d be safe.”

“Oh,” was all Cassandra could think to say. She definitely wanted to remember the feeling of the Guardian’s strong arms around her. She could imagine it in her mind’s eye with stunning clarity, right down to what Eve’s hands would feel like again the skin of her face. Why would Eve be cradling her face in this scenario? When she glanced back at Eve, she had a knowing look on her face, as though she knew exactly what Cassandra was thinking. 

Cassandra knew she blushed this time. 

She was about to say something more when Ezekiel’s voice suddenly sounded behind her, making her jump again. 

“Where am I? What’s going on? Did we get hit by the—oh, why hello Stone. Had a nice nap now, did we?”

“Man, why are we under the table?” 

Cassandra rolled over to see Ezekiel and Jake sliding out from under the table and moved to join them. 

Ezekiel pushed himself forward and sat up, giving an over-exaggerated stretch. “Well, that certainly was refreshing,” he quipped. “Jenkins back yet?”

Jake slid forward too but stood up completely, brushing himself off with a frown. “Yeah, I’m sure he’ll be back any moment,” he said sarcastically. “This is just great, we’re quarantined in a room with hours to go and we’re all infected with some sort of contagious fungus.” 

“Aw come on mate, it’s probably not that bad. Fungus makes it sound so gross, like athlete’s foot or something. I liked it better when we calling it sparkles.”

Cassandra laughed, then flushed when the two turned her way. She sat up next to Ezekiel. “I like sparkles better too,” she said. “The tingling tastes like... like honey, and it smells like flowers. Those aren’t very fungus-y things.”

“It doesn’t—sparkles isn’t—come on, you guys!” Stone growled. “Either way we’re all infected with with _something_ and we don’t even know what it’s going to do to us. Forgive me for being a little concerned!”

“If only there were some books around and some people smart enough to go through and read them,” came Eve’s voice from under the table. 

Stone hesitated. “Doesn’t this bother you, Baird?” 

Eve sat up enough that her face appeared under the table, gazing at up at him gently. “Of course it does, Stone. My job is to keep you safe, and I brought whatever this is here to you. But... at the same time, I don’t feel sick or in pain, and I trust Jenkins when he said it wouldn’t hurt us and that it would go away soon.”

“Technically Jenkins didn’t actually say either of those things,” Ezekiel said. 

Stone sighed and headed for the stairs, and Cassandra could just make out his voice as he grumbled quietly to himself. After a moment, Ezekiel sprang up too. “I’m going to help,” he announced. 

“Really? You’re going to use a card catalogue?” came Stone’s reply from the top floor. “We need to actually figure out what these spores are going to do to us, man. We’re going to have to do some serious cross-referencing...” They could hear him already shuffling books around as Flynn began to list suggestions. 

Ezekiel shot Cassandra a mischievous grin. “What can I say,” he called back, “I’m feeling pretty good right now.” In a quieter voice he added, “And I have a feeling we already know what these Eros Spores do to people, mate.” Cassandra wasn’t sure she caught his meaning, but she smiled back anyway. And with that he jauntily skipped his way up to the books.


	3. In Which Cassandra Forms a Hypothesis

“You heading up too?” Eve asked, sitting up properly. She was close enough that Cassandra could feel the warmth radiating from her body like waves, and she considered removing her sweater. To bring down the temperature, of course. Eve was in a tank top after all, and if she took off her sweater she could undo a few of the buttons of the shirt underneath. Then her neck would be free, and for some reason that seemed really appealing. Cassandra similarly found herself studying the graceful curve of Eve’s neck, mentally tracing the line where it met with her collarbones, the skin glistening with a faint sheen of sweat... Or, was that sweat? Was she sparkling instead? If she got even closer then maybe she could tell...

“Cassandra?”

“Hm?” Cassandra blinked and refocused as Eve said her name. “Sorry, did you ask me something?”

“I was just asking if you were heading up with the guys to look through the books.” She nodded over to where Flynn was flipping through cards, calling suggestions up the stairs. As he opened and closed the drawers Cassandra noticed that several buttons were now undone on his orange vacation shirt, and she caught herself as her thoughts drifted back to her sweater situation. 

Logically she knew she should be heading up to their limited shelves, focusing on researching the health effects of other statue-based magic and arcane fungi—Flynn’s suggestions indicated that he was focusing on regional magical phenomena, while she knew Stone would be looking into the significance of the Greek gods—but... at the same time, it was surprisingly comfortable here on the floor, and she didn’t really want to leave Eve. For health reasons. 

“I will,” she said finally. “But, you know, someone should watch out for you and monitor your symptoms, right? In case you feel weird? Because then probably we’ll also feel weird, since we’ve all got the same thing now, which isn’t your fault and I’m not saying you’re a guinea pig or anything. Just. You know. I think I’ll stay for a bit, to make sure you’re okay? If that’s okay?” She inwardly cringed at her own rambling but was concentrating too hard on not referencing Eve’s eyes or lips or biceps in her explanation to keep it brief. 

Eve, however, didn’t seem at all bothered by Cassie’s decision. “That’s more than okay,” she said with a smile. “I appreciate you looking out for me.”

“Well, you know, it seems fair to me. Since usually it’s you looking out for m—for us.”

Eve leaned in briefly and bumped her shoulder with Cassandra’s, but looked away. “I’m the Guardian. Looking out for my Librarians is supposed to be my job.” 

Cassandra hesitated, then leaned over to rest her shoulder on the other woman’s. “Eve... it’s okay, we’re still safe. Jenkins said that it’s not deadly or anything, and it’ll sort itself out. You’re a fantastic Guardian; you’re always there for us, and you’re here for us now. And now we get to take care of you, too.” 

Eve nodded and moved her hand to rest it on Cassandra’s knee, squeezing gently. She turned back to face Cassandra with a small smile, and once again her face was just inches from Cassie’s own. She followed the trail of her face with her gaze; those strong cheekbones, her sharp jaw, the bridge of her nose... and her eyes were drawn to the tilt of Eve’s lips and Cassie was hit with a sudden desperation. She felt the heat burning beneath Eve’s hand travel to pool between her legs and all she wanted was to lean in and close the distance between them and—

Cassandra forced herself to snap out of it and lurched back to sitting normally, ears burning. She could feel herself blushing furiously and turned away, mentally replaying the last several seconds on loop. This wasn’t the first time she’d thought about kissing Eve, but this was definitely the first time she’d nearly done it in real life... She shifted her thighs in an attempt to quell the warmth burning there; Eve took her hand back, which helped but left behind an empty feeling. 

Cassandra glanced at Eve out of the corner of her eye, feeling slightly embarrassed, but the other woman regarded her calmly. That knowing look was back, as though she knew exactly what Cassandra almost tried to do... but Eve didn’t look upset or uncomfortable. Her posture was relaxed, though she made no move to lean back in. But then her eyes flicked down quickly, just for a second—was she looking at Cassie’s lips? Or was she just imagining that?—and when she met Cassandra’s eye once more her face changed ever so slightly. She looked almost smug. 

Cassandra swallowed and attempted to calm her racing heartbeat. “So,” she said as casually as she could. “You know, since I’m here to track your symptoms... how are you feeling now? Still tingly?”

Eve, still with that same strange expression, sat up straighter rolled out her shoulders. “Yeah, still kind of tingly, but in an okay way. And, warm? I’m not drowsy or anything though—I actually have a lot of energy, I feel like I could go for a nice workout right about now. But... at the same time I also feel pretty good sitting on the floor with you here.”

“You’re sure? We don’t have to stay on the floor,” said Cassandra, who very much wanted to stay on the floor. “We could find you a spot to work out, if you want.”

Eve thought for a moment, shaking out her arms. “No, I think I’m alright,” she said finally. “I have the energy for a workout but somehow I don’t feel like it would hit the spot, if that makes any sense. Plus, I don’t know, I don’t think I’d want to be alone right now.”

“I think it makes sense—I mean, weird sparkle condition, right? It’s probably best to stick together to make sure everything’s alright.” Cassie didn’t particularly want to be alone either and released a tension she didn’t know she’d had now that she knew Eve felt the same. 

Eve leaned back on her hands, catching Cassandra’s eye and humming a little. “I think sticking together is an excellent plan,” she said. That strange huskiness in her voice was back—honestly her tone of voice generally was just kind of weird, it wasn’t a way Baird usually spoke. Her voice was low and soft and it might have been more concerning it not for the fact that was doing things to Cassandra that were becoming increasingly distracting. 

It took a few heartbeats more for Cassandra to become aware of how long they’d now spent staring at each other, and honestly wasn’t sure what to make of it. She knew that it had been in reality only seconds, but they were long seconds, and she had never felt eye contact this intensely. In those few moments the desperate feeling had mellowed out slightly, but this certainly wasn’t helping it go away any faster. Cassandra had watched Eve before, sure, on missions mostly—seeing in her element as a defender was a sight to behold—but to her knowledge Eve had never watched back. 

Eve was watching back now. 

Part of her knew she should look away. She should head upstairs to research with Jake and Ezekiel, but the part of her that was curious was so much louder. Her attraction to Eve was always there in the back of her mind; now it was also in the front of her mind. _Oh!_ Eros Spores, Eros was the god of desire... 

It made sense: the effect of the spores must have to do with increasing susceptibility to endorphins released when engaging with people one is sexually attracted to. Having the spores magically affecting her physiology both caused her to focus on her attraction to Eve, and also seemed to be lowering her inhibitions... Cassandra kicked into science gear and instantly felt more in control of herself, so she leaned into it. A solid hypothesis, but how to test it? 

Well, what would disprove that hypothesis? Would the spores cause her to be attracted to someone she wouldn’t otherwise find attractive, should she be presented with them? Cassandra wasn’t sure how to test that, considering that she was quarantined in a room in four very attractive people. She broke her gaze away from Eve’s to immerse herself in her thoughts, gesturing as she organized herself. 

“First they hit Eve, then Flynn, then me, then Jake and Ezekiel...” she murmured to herself, seeing the four of them in her mind’s eye. She created a list of traits, physical and otherwise, and began sorting them into columns beneath each person; when she finished she realized with some embarrassment that she had ranked them in order of attractiveness. 

First came Eve—no surprise, since Cassandra already knew she had a bit of a preference for women—and then more or less tied after her were Jake and Ezekiel. The two were both handsome in different ways, but between Jake’s comforting warmth and Ezekiel’s electric spontaneity she couldn’t decide which one was overall more attractive to her. 

Last on the list, though, was Flynn. He wasn’t an unattractive man by any means, and he was certainly incredibly smart, but someone had to be at the end and she just didn’t really see him the same way she did the others. Pondering how to use him as a test subject she swivelled around to find him now sitting at his desk. 

Cassandra had hardly noticed that Flynn’s shouted research suggestions had ended a while ago, and he was now sitting not far from her flipping through four books at once. His orange Hawaiian shirt now hung completely open, revealing the white tank top underneath; Cassandra mentally noted that increased body temperature was also a symptom of the Eros Spores and fidgeted idly with the hem of her sweater. Flynn’s tongue stuck out ever-so-slightly from his mouth as he focused and Cassandra allowed her gaze to be drawn to it; she had never been interested in kissing Flynn, and though she made herself think about it now, she found she still had no particular desire to do so. Interesting.

Now she glanced back towards Eve, who was also watching Flynn think. Eve was flushed, her eyes dark, and she tapped her fingers lightly on the ground as though she couldn’t quite sit still. Cassandra would normally be embarrassed to admit to herself how very curious she was about kissing Eve, but she found it surprisingly easy to set that feeling aside in the name of Science. Thinking about it now, the image slammed into her mind in full colour and detail: the feeling of Eve’s fingers carding through her hair, the strength of corded muscle beneath Cassie’s hands, the warmth of her body pressed against Eve’s, the softness of her lips and the heat of her breath on Cassie’s face, the soft gasp as Eve’s lips part and she deepens the kiss, her tongue slipping gently into Cassandra’s m—

Okay, _whoa_. Cassandra’s breath hitched at the thought and she jumped back into the present, suddenly nervous that Eve could sense her fantasy. She regarded the other woman warily, but Eve didn’t look her way; she was fixated on Flynn. So the Eros Spores only encouraged desire that was already there—it didn’t create it, only intensified it. That was good to know. And Eve... well, it went without saying that was attracted to Flynn, given that they were already partners... What might she be thinking about right now?

She barely had to ask herself the question and her brain supplied her with a vivid possible answer: the image of Eve and Flynn splayed out across his desk, half-dressed and making out fervently as she straddled his waist. In her mind’s eye Cassandra watched Flynn laugh against Eve’s lips, his hands sliding up her back to the band of her bra to fumble blindly against the fastening. Eve pulling back to undo it herself as Flynn presses hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck. Eve grinding down on Flynn’s growing erection, pulling her bra off swiftly and revealing her (spectacular) breasts, and hearing her moan as Flynn immediately draws her nipple into his mouth. Flynn tracing his hands over her (bare, muscled) abdomen, listening to her sigh his name with arousal dripping from her voice. Cassandra felt like a voyeur in her own head, imagining Eve sitting beside her with this exact thought in _her_ mind. 

In her fantasy Cassandra herself appeared in the Annex, watching now as Eve pulled Flynn’s tank top over his head and ran her heads hungrily over his skin. The fantasy was spiralling deeper: she imagined Eve and Flynn on the desk, and imagined Eve imagining the scene, and imagined herself watching Eve and Flynn on the desk, imagined Eve imagining her there watching them... Eve in her mind looked up now, and spotted Cassandra watching them, and her gaze was brimming with lust and she realized Eve knew she was watching and _liked it_ , she imagined Eve getting off on Cassie watching her get off.

Cassandra, real-life-present Cassandra, sitting-on-the-floor-imagining-what-Eve-might-be-imagining Cassandra, suddenly heard what sounded like a faint whimpering noise and snapped out of it—only to realize that the whimpering was coming from her. Oh, god. Her eyes refocused on Eve, and Eve was looking at her, and oh _god_ Cassandra had never imagined anything like that before and her whole body was thrumming with energy and heat and embarrassment and arousal.

Eve looked concerned for only a moment, then abruptly she looked instead very curious. Cassandra didn’t trust herself to wonder about that, she couldn’t hold her gaze, she had to—she had to, to stand up, and go somewhere else. Right now. Or she was going to say something or do something and oh god she wanted to be touched _right_ now in so many ways, and she wanted Eve to do the touching, or she wanted Eve to touch Flynn, or both of them to touch her, and if it didn’t happen soon she might explode. 

Cassandra took a shaky breath and stood up, now realizing that in the otherwise quiet room she was drawing Flynn’s eyes too. Eve remained on the floor but her hands flexed suddenly, like she was about to move them but decided not to. “You too, huh?” Eve said, her voice low and soft. 

Cassandra choked back another whimper and forced herself not to think about what that might mean. “I’m going to—I’m going to go check on the boys!” she squeaked, and she turned around before anyone could say anything else and dashed toward the stairs. 

She left her sweater on the floor behind her.


	4. In Which Stone Gets Distracted

By the time Flynn finished calling up authors and titles from the card catalogue, Jacob Stone had amassed a sizeable list on a piece of scrap paper and had already found and collected many of the books on it. Ezekiel, to no surprise, was basically no help at all despite his declaration only moments ago. 

“Oh come on,” the thief was saying as he followed Jake to yet another bookshelf. “I’m just saying, I feel like we can pretty much figure out what the sparkles are gonna do to us.”

Jake shot him a glare as he reached up to grab the book he came here for and added it to the growing stack in his arms. “If you’re not gonna help me research you could at least carry some of these,” he said, gesturing with his head. 

“Eros Spores taking effect so strongly already, I’m impressed! Obviously you want me to carry these books so you can admire my muscular arms in action, right?” Ezekiel smiled broadly and flexed as he took the stack of books from him. “Hey, rolling your eyes isn’t a no!” 

Stone didn’t bother to answer as he checked the rough list Flynn gave him. Most of his suggestions involved documents of local magical occurrences from all around Greece—Jake also wanted to find information that might connect the magic to the statues themselves, or the aspects of the gods they represented. He tugged absently at the collar of his flannel shirt; it was hotter up here on the top floor than it was down by the door. 

Solving all of this would be easier if they could access the rest of the Library. Jenkins’ concern was grating on Stone—if the Caretaker knew about the exact symptoms of this infection then he should have _told_ them, not locked them up away from the resources and artifacts that might help. Whether or not it was going to sort itself out on its own, the idea of having magic floating around inside him was an uncomfortable one. He mulled on this as he rounded another bookshelf and pulled another tome down, heavy and slightly dusty. 

He slid his hand over the leather cover and the texture of it suddenly reminded him of... something. He frowned, and in the background he could hear Ezekiel drop the stack he’d handed him on a table nearby, and he concentrated as once again he slid his hands over the spine. It felt like snippets of déjà vu, flashes of a memory, becoming something whole: a small crowd... in a dim room... with the texture of leather. Rhythmic sounds, close-by and yet distant, and the texture of leather. The musky smell of sweat, heavy in the heat, and the texture of leather; hands on his skin, and the texture of leather; restraints on his wrists and the texture of leather, a gag on his tongue and the texture of leather—a sweet, sharp sting of pain and the texture of—a feeling of utter bliss like a haze over his mind, a sigh, a _moan_ , and the t—

“Feeling horny yet?” 

Stone nearly dropped the book. “What?” he snapped, rounding on Ezekiel beside him. 

“I _said_ , are you feeling horny yet? Cause, you know, Eros Spores. I ask out of professional concern for your condition.” Ezekiel grinned at him, not looking nearly as innocent as he seemed to think. 

Jake spluttered, still half-distracted by a memory he hadn’t thought of in a long while. He was _not_ blushing, not in front of Ezekiel. “I don’t—you don’t, it doesn’t—I feel fine, man, I’m getting, I’m getting the books.” What the hell. Fine, maybe mostly-distracted. 

Ezekiel hummed. “I’ll say,” he said. “Is this one for the pile or do you want to feel it up a bit more? I’m here to help, after all.”

Jake glowered at him, thrusting the book into his hands and shouldering past him as he consulted the list once more. He stared at the words on the page, trying to force his mind to concentrate. 

“You seem a bit agitated, Stone,” Ezekiel continued smoothly. “Is there anything I can do to help? A back rub, maybe?” 

Jake ignored him and started toward the next shelf he needed to find. This next book was one of the ones on Greek sculpture that he personally wanted to focus on, in case there were any connections to specific aspects of Eros or Aphrodite... And he was decidedly not remembering the feeling of his arms bound firmly behind his back, exposing his chest and neck to multiple sets of eager hands.

As he approached the shelf Ezekiel followed, deftly balancing the book by its corner on a single finger. Stone glanced back and was genuinely impressed for a moment; Ezekiel made it look effortless despite the weight of the thick tome. But then the thief noticed him watching and had the nerve to wink, flipping the book up into the air and catching it easily, and Jake turned away with a huff and another roll of his eyes. (He made a point not to think about the thief’s hands, so controlled and deliberate as they were, hands that could take apart a complex lock in mere seconds; and he staunchly avoided even going _near_ imagining how easily those hands could in turn take apart a person, with that same control and care and maybe even the cold detachment that one might have when regarding a mere object. Or even better, the hunger and admiration of regarding a work of _art_... Nope. The thought definitely didn’t cross his mind, and it definitely wasn’t getting hotter up here.)

Jake scanned the shelf without really seeing it, distracted by the thoughts he wasn’t having. The sound of Ezekiel tapping his fingers against the book in his hands wasn’t helping either. After a good thirty seconds of failing to find what he was looking for he growled in frustration. “Would you cut that out, man?”

“Cut what out?”

“I can’t concentrate with you making all that noise!”

“You can’t concentrate because you’re distracted by me?”

“ _Yes_ , you’re distracting me, I’m trying to find—“

“Because you’re too attracted to me to focus on the books, I get it.” 

“I’m _trying_ to find information on this aspect of Eros and you’re tapping your fingers—“ 

“What’s the book called?” 

Jake let out a breath at the abrupt change of subject and regarded Ezekiel with suspicion as he wordlessly showed him the slip of paper he’d written the various titles on. Ezekiel took it from him without further teasing. 

“It’s literally right there, mate,” said the thief after a moment, gesturing upward with his chin. He held the paper back out to Jake without looking at him. When Jake took it back it felt to him that Ezekiel held on to it for a fraction of a second too long, and when he pulled his hand away that brief touch of their thumbs was the one thing he could focus on. 

Ezekiel paid this no mind, however, and instead simply stretched up and pulled the book off one of the higher shelves. The move lifted the hem of his shirt up a bit, and Jake, to his own frustration, found his eyes drawn to the thin strip of exposed skin. It was there and gone in a second, but suddenly there were two things he could focus on. 

“Here you are,” said Ezekiel, turning back toward him. “One more book that really isn’t going to help us because we already know what’s going to happen—“ He stopped, holding the book out in front of him. 

“What,” Jake said quickly, a statement. He found he didn’t want to look the other man in the eye. The neckline of Ezekiel’s shirt exposed his collarbones, but that somehow wasn’t any better. 

“Nothing,” said Ezekiel. He sounded smug. That couldn’t be good. “Just, you’re blushing.”

Jake hesitated. “No I’m not.” 

“Yes you are. You’re all red.”

“No, I’m not—” Jake’s protests were weak even to his own ears, where he could even now feel the heat building. He reached forward to grab the proffered book, but Ezekiel tugged it back. 

“Admit it,” Ezekiel said, now grinning broadly. “The Eros Spores have got you all hot and bothered for your ol’ pal Ezekiel. I can’t blame you, I _am_ incredibly good-looking.”

Jake rolled his eyes for the third time and moved to step past him into the aisle, but Ezekiel stopped him by gently hitting him in the shoulder with the book he still held. Jake stilled. They were standing very close now. 

Ezekiel looked him in the eyes, expression full of mischief and curiosity. Loathe as he was to admit it, the thief _was_ attractive. When he got into the zone, immersed in his element as he talked them through lock-picking or hacking security systems, it was impossible not to admire him. Sure, his cockiness could be grating—but the truth was, Ezekiel Jones simply _was_ the best at what he did, and he knew it. He was electricity with a confident smile, a force of nature, and _damn_ it was hot up here on the top floor. 

They stayed that way for a few wordless moments, Ezekiel still holding the book against Stone’s shoulder. Then the thief pulled back and gave him a very deliberate once-over, his eyes slowly trailing down Jake’s body, analytical as only a safecracker could be. When he finally made eye contact again Jake’s breath hitched at the intensity he saw there. 

Stone didn’t trust himself to say anything as Ezekiel raised an eyebrow. _Fine_ , so the thief had been right—the spores were having the predicted effect and he was, in fact, somewhat attracted to his friend. Maybe more than somewhat.

Ezekiel nodded slightly as though Stone had somehow answered a question that hadn’t been asked—maybe his face was letting on more than he knew? The thief licked his lips and then made a show of shrugging nonchalantly. 

“Be as mad as you want about it,” he said, “but we both know you find me irresistible. Throw in the sparkles and it’s no wonder you’re so riled up.”

“I am not riled up,” said Jake, who was thoroughly riled up. But he didn’t make any move to step away from the other man. 

Ezekiel gestured towards him with the book in his hand, still speaking casually. “I wonder what sort of naughty thoughts go on up there. I mean, you’re an art nerd, so you must love all that ‘draw me like one of your French girls’ stuff, right?” 

Jake immediately shut down the rush of thoughts featuring Ezekiel Jones sprawled out for him to sketch. 

“Or is that too vanilla? It’s hard to tell with you cowboy types. Hmm, I’m pretty sure Baird’s into some pretty kinky stuff. Maybe you’d prefer to boss someone around? Or... be told what to do?”

“Shut up.” Oh, he said that way too fast. (Wait, Baird?)

Ezekiel regarded him playfully. “Sorry, what was that?” 

“I said, shut up,” Jake said. He was definitely giving too much away now. Ezekiel had a delighted smile; that was never a good thing. 

“Do you know, my dear Mr Stone,” Ezekiel said slowly, deliberately, “I think that if you want me to shut up, you’re going to have to shut me up yourself.”

It was a challenge, a blatant one at that. This was so absurd, what were they even doing? Stone didn’t have to respond to that. He should just turn around and go back to the books so he could get some research done, instead of letting Ezekiel distract him. 

“I think I just might,” Jake replied in a low voice. 

In a single swift movement Jake stepped into Ezekiel’s space, placed an arm across his chest, and pinned him back against the bookshelf, the two books in the thief’s arms trapped between their bodies as he pressed against the other man. Ezekiel’s eyes went wide in surprise. 

A heartbeat, two, they stayed that way, breathing each other in. Ezekiel opened his mouth to say something, and Stone brought his other hand up, silencing him with a finger trailed down the thief’s jaw. Stone felt more than heard Ezekiel’s shuddering breath at the contact.

He flicked his eyes up and found only desire to meet them, and it was his turn to smile. “You talk too much,” he murmured, his accent thick, voice low in his chest, and Ezekiel’s eyes fluttered shut as he leaned in to close the distance between them—

“Jake! Ezekiel! I’m here to help with the books—whoa, am I interrupting something?”


	5. In Which Ezekiel Has Some Fun

Ezekiel Jones jumped only a little at Cassandra’s breathless exclamation. It seemed that he alone between himself and Stone had heard her coming up the stairs, and he alone was unperturbed by the position she found them in. 

Stone left a sudden cold behind when he sprung back; his body was like a furnace. “Cassandra,” he said, his voice a little shaky. “No, no—we were just, finding the books.”

Cassandra looked curiously over at Ezekiel, who didn’t move from the shelf. The two books that he held in his arms stayed pressed against his shirt. 

“Are you sure?” she asked. “Cause I mean, it looked like...” 

“Stone is apparently a very hands-on researcher,” Ezekiel said with a wink at the other man. “I believe I was just—“

“Being annoying,” Stone finished quickly. He was flushed down to his neck, and Ezekiel opted not to remark on the fact that he had turned his entire body away from the two with feigned casualness. Stone cleared his throat. “I’d appreciate the help, Cassandra.”

Cassandra stared at his back, but he didn’t turn around. She was also flushed, Ezekiel noted, her cheeks tinged with a warm rosiness that looked good on her, her eyes bright as she assessed the two of them. Her sweater was gone and the button-up shirt she wore underneath was unbuttoned nearly halfway, exposing her collarbones and the pale skin of her sternum; her fingers fidgeted idly with the hem of her skirt. 

Ezekiel shot her a grin, still leaning back on the bookshelf as though pinned there. _That_ had been unexpected—he’d been sure Stone would just huff and leave the aisle as he had before. Ezekiel could still feel the hand on his jaw and the intense heat of Stone’s breath on his lips. If only Cassie had arrived a moment later... 

“How’re you doing?” he asked her. 

She blinked, flushing deeper. God, these Eros Spores were _fun_. “Oh, I’m okay,” she said, voice at a much higher pitch than usual. “I was just, um, pondering the effects of the, well, you know, downstairs, and decided to come help with the books. That’s all.” 

Oh, she had it bad. “What a coincidence! I was just pondering the exact same thing, wasn’t I, Stone?” Stone didn’t answer, as the sheet of paper in his hand was apparently incredibly interesting. Ezekiel turned back to Cassandra. “I have a few theories of my own as to what the symptoms might be, but I’d love to hear your take.”

Cassandra took a breath. “Okay, well, based on E—Colonel Baird’s physiological state and my own, um, my... observations... it appears that following the early symptoms of unconsciousness and increased body temperature, there’s a release of endorphins that cause you to become—that is, um. You end up susceptible to... Well, that is—“

“You get really really horny?” 

“...Yeah. Pretty much.” 

There was a loud silence between the three of them. 

“Well,” Ezekiel said, “who could have guessed—“

“We still have to figure out how to cure it,” Stone interrupted flatly. He kept his body facing the bookshelf as he sidled past Cassandra. Talk about inconspicuous. 

“Right,” said Cassie. Ezekiel tried not to snort as he watched her eyes follow the movement of Stone’s ass. “Research. Yes.”

“I’ll show you to our book pile,” Ezekiel offered, noting the way Cassie’s eyes settled on his chest rather than his face. He finally stood up straight, performing an exaggerated stretch, and he waited to see if—yep, there it was, her eyes fixed on the strip of skin he knew his shirt revealed. His friends were so predictable. 

They left Stone behind as they made their way past the shelves to the table holding the stack of books, and Ezekiel added his two. The tall pile he had placed down earlier was accompanied by one or two papyrus scrolls; Cassandra picked up a tray holding a jigsaw puzzle of painted pottery shards. 

“So this is what we’re working with, huh?” she said. 

“Looks like it. I tried googling a few variations on Eros Spores but nothing useful came up, so it’s down to the books.”

“Wow, seriously? There were no hits at all?” 

“Well, nothing historical.” The words themselves hadn’t produced anything, but ‘magic pollen that makes you horny’ earned him some... interesting results. He wasn’t going to be able to look at Star Trek the same way ever again. 

Cassandra pursed her lips as she studied the tray. “Well, the pottery is going to be Jake’s thing. Did you grab anything on other magical fungus, or is this all just about regions in Greece?”

“I think we’ve got one here, yeah,” Ezekiel said, scanning the spines. “ _Pre-20th Century Arcane Mycology_. Sounds exciting.” He pinched the book by the corner and dramatically pulled it from the bottom of the pile like a Jenga block before handing it to her. “And if you’re interested anyway, Stone said there was a reproduction of the whole pottery image in here...” He passed her one of the thinner books from the middle of the stack.

“Thanks, Ezekiel.” She flipped through the thinner book, glancing back at the pottery shards. It wasn’t written in a language either of them could read, but after a few moments Cassandra simply said, “Ah,” and shut the book with a snap. 

“Find it?”

“I did, yeah.” She didn’t elaborate, and opened the mycology book for a few moments before shutting it again. “Symptoms-wise, how are you feeling? You seem pretty chill with the whole situation.”

“That would be because I am.” Ezekiel easily removed a book from the very bottom of the pile and scanned the index with a finger. Of course he’d grab a book on love potions. Still, maybe there was something there... 

“You... are?” Cassandra sounded almost suspicious. 

“Well yeah, I mean, what’s really happening? We all take a nap and start thinking about sex? It’s not exactly that different from an average Tuesday when you think about it.”

Cassandra hesitated for a moment and then opened the mycology book to a random page. “I think that’s only part of it,” she said. “From what I gather, there’s also lowered inhibitions.”

Didn’t he know it, after Stone’s display. Ezekiel had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “I think my inhibitions were already as low as they can get, mate. I can’t honestly say I feel a difference.” 

“What about increased body temperature?”

“Aw, Cassie,” Ezekiel said, “are you saying I’m hot?” 

Cassandra didn’t look up from her book, but her face was suddenly as red as her hair. “I mean, you don’t—I’m not _not_ saying that you—“ she stammered. “I mean, just, are you?”

“Am I hot? I believe most, if not all, agree that the answer to that is a resounding yes.”

Her eyes flicked up at him briefly, trying to glare but clearly agreeing. “Has your body temperature increased above normal?” 

Hmm. Ezekiel supposed he was warmer than he was downstairs, though it was nothing compared to the heat radiating from Stone. He told her as much. 

“He’s heating up too, huh?” She turned a page. 

“Oh yeah,” he said, returning his gaze to his own book and making a show of focusing on it. “He’s insanely hot. Plus,” he added, rubbing his chin as he pondered the text, “his body temperature is significantly elevated.” 

There was a brief pause as Cassandra processed what he’d said and then she barked out a laugh that she swiftly turned into a cough. “That’s... that’s good to know,” she said, clearing her throat. 

Ezekiel chuckled too. “Beyond that, the only other symptom is getting horny?” 

“Seems like it. Pass out, heat up, and then get really attracted to everyone.”

“Like I said, average Tuesday.”

“It’s not even Tuesday!” 

“Eh, agree to disagree.”

An easy silence grew between them as they sat on the benches across the table and flipped through their respective books. Between Cassandra constantly checking him out and Stone getting up in his personal bubble, this was promising to be a very entertaining afternoon. It was lucky, actually, that if he had to be locked in horny jail with anyone it would be these two. Imagine if it had been like, Jenkins or something? Not quite his cup of tea. 

Actually, hang on. “I’m not horny for Jenkins!” 

Cassandra glanced up at his declaration. “Um, okay?” 

“No, I mean—if it makes you attracted to everyone, why aren’t I attracted to Jenkins?” If Stone’s reaction to Ezekiel was anything to go by, you’d think he’d be popping a boner at the mere thought of bow ties. 

“Oh, well, my understanding is that it doesn’t seem to create new attraction, it just takes what’s, you know, already there, and multiplies it.” 

“So it’s not forcing me to be attracted to anyone I’m not already attracted to?”

“I don’t know, is it?”

He thought about it. Jenkins, Dulaque—who else?—um, Frankenstein, Bigfoot, or that fairy Ariel—Flynn was so annoying, and honestly he just didn’t see Eve that way, and hell, they were in the room with him— “No, I don’t think it is! Huh, that’s... really interesting, actually.” 

When it came to Stone and Cassandra, he already knew he had a thing for both of them. On some level he also knew they both had a thing for him—how could they not?—but, oh man. He was making Cassandra blush and Stone had nearly _kissed_ him. A thrill went through him as it really sank in, that the spores were just magnifying something they all already felt. 

Sweet. Oh, this was going to be so much fun. 

But first: research. Jenkins had said he’d be back in three hours, and Ezekiel’s internal clock was flawless, well-trained from memorizing guards’ rounds and timing the gaps in security systems. So while a decent chunk of Ezekiel’s brain was genuinely focused on collecting information, another part—the part that never stopped, that always looked for solutions to the problem, turning the tumblers in the lock—that part was entirely devoted to having as much fun as possible before Jenkins showed up and their sparkly problem went away. 

They continued that way for a while, both flipping through books in near silence. Every now and then one of them would make a “hm” sort of noise, and he could just about hear Eve and Flynn talking down below, though he couldn’t make out their words. Stone never came to join them, but his footsteps travelled from shelf to shelf as he read on the go. 

Ezekiel was impressed by how focused Cassandra was the whole time. Despite occasionally shifting her hair in an attempt to quell the heat, she managed to sit through several books’ worth of speed-reading, apparently without distraction from her thoughts or otherwise. She was currently flipping through the book Ezekiel had grabbed down for Stone, the one he’d said had information on aspects of Eros, the one he’d pressed to Ezekiel’s chest while pinning him to the shelf. He replayed that scene in his head for the dozenth time and couldn’t suppress the frisson of pleasure at the memory of their bodies pressed flush. 

Well. That was probably enough research for now, right? 

“That one’s about aspects of Eros, isn’t it?” he said conversationally. 

“It’s more about the different ways various regions of Greece worshipped the same gods, but yeah, that’s the part I’m at now.” 

“Cool.” Ezekiel closed his own book, an incredibly dry text about Mediterranean leylines. “So... find anything interesting?”

Cassandra hummed. “Well, it’s drawing parallels between the cult of Dionysus and the Bacchanals with a specific and like, hedonistic worship of Aphrodite and Eros.”

That gave Ezekiel pause. “Bacchanals? I think Stone mentioned those back when we had to break up that weird goatman fight club... Didn’t that involve people going nuts and”—he gestured violently, complete with sound effects—“ripping each other to pieces?” 

“Well, technically the whole Bacchanal thing is more Roman than Greek. It’s sort of a huge drunken party where anything goes—remember that big thing of magic wine they had at the fight club?”

Ezekiel shuddered. “Don’t remind me.” He’d woken up with two black eyes and the worst hangover he’d ever had, hands down. 

“Well, according to this, a variation on the Ancient Greek cult of Aphrodite had their own similar thing, but without the violence.”

“Oh, thank god. That goat dude with the pink sideburns still calls me sometimes, demanding a rematch.” 

“I still don’t know why you gave him your number! But anyway, I think the Eros Spores might have something to do with their revels. Interestingly, the text emphasizes hedonism rather than fertility, which is why they’re comparing it with Dionysus.” 

“Man, your book sounds way more interesting than mine,” Ezekiel said, pushing his bench back from the table. 

“What’s yours about?” 

He stood up and shook out his arms. “I barely know. Patterns of leylines in Greece, I think, but it’s written like that Saucer guy Stone likes and it’s giving me a headache.” 

“You mean Chaucer.” 

“Yeah, that’s the one. Can’t spell anything properly.” Ezekiel ambled his way over to the opposite side of the table where Cassandra was sitting. 

“Stone’d be so mad if he heard you say that,” she laughed. 

“Furious,” he agreed, and dropped onto the bench next to her. She raised an eyebrow at him. “No no, don’t stop on my account. I figure we could share this one, since most of the other books’ve been read already.” 

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously but shifted the book over to rest between them. “Let me know if I’m turning the pages too fast,” she said. 

“Mm-hm.” Cassandra’s body was radiating warmth just as Stone’s had. Ezekiel was very aware of the few inches between them, and not very aware at all of the words on the page as she continued to flip them at her usual pace. He was curious as to what she might be thinking now; he didn’t look at her face but in his peripheral vision he saw her legs shift every few moments and had to restrain a smirk. At least part of her was distracted now. 

Ezekiel leaned forward onto the table, propping his head on his hand, and let himself relax with a deep, drawn-out sigh. He saw through his eyelashes as her head snapped up to stare at him, her expression changing several times in a heartbeat before settling on something he couldn’t quite place. “Something the matter?” he asked, keeping his voice casual. 

“N-no,” she said, voice breaking a little. She turned back toward the book, breathing slightly harder than she was before. Her eyes didn’t move, but she turned the page after the usual amount of time anyway. 

Actually, it was pretty warm now, come to think of it. Maybe it was just that Cassandra was generating so much heat so close to him, but he could feel his own temperature rising. That tingling sensation beneath his skin was distracting him, and he wiped sweat from the palm of his free hand on the thigh of his jeans. Cassandra’s eyes followed the movement—that one he actually hadn’t done on purpose—and she swallowed as he did it again, sliding his hand over his leg deliberately. Her hands turned another page. He wanted to get closer. 

“Cassandra,” Ezekiel said, extending the last syllable. He wanted her to look him in the eye, but god, he was unprepared when she did. The teasing words disappeared from his mind. Her face was flushed, eyes dark, her lips were parted and shining and not nearly close enough to his. Her hair, tossed over her far shoulder, was just disheveled enough to make him want to mess it up more, and the half-unbuttoned shirt exposed the white skin of her neck, her collarbones, the curve of her breasts and the beige edge of her bra. 

He stared at her like an idiot for who knows how long before she said, “Yes, Ezekiel?” in barely a whisper. He didn’t answer, transfixed by the way her tongue formed his name. She breathed a laugh. “Hello? Earth to Ezekiel, anyone home?” She was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at her. 

He felt himself smile back at the look on her face with absolutely none of the control he’d had before. “I was, uh, I was going to say,” he said, clearing his throat, “I was just going to say that you’re craning your neck. To see the book, I mean, since you moved it.” The suave charm he’d been going for was decidedly not happening, it turned out. He sounded ridiculous. “I mean, like, you can move it back to being in front of you, so it’s easier to read? I—just, here,” he finished lamely, and he slid the open book back in front of her. “There, that’s better. For you, y’know, to read. See?” 

“Right...” Cassandra said, eyes tracking the movement as he pulled his hand back. She paused for a moment, thinking, and then she smiled mischievously. “But how will you read it, now that it’s all the way over here?” 

He felt his face heat up even more. The banter, he needed to banter! But then Cassandra bit her lip and all of his thoughts raced south. 

“Well, I guess I could always slide over to get a better look?” He didn’t mean to sound so uncertain. The execution was all thrown off—all of Cassandra’s focus was on him and her fingers stroked the page of the book and he couldn’t remember how to have the upper hand in his own game. 

He was supposed to be the one flustering her, dammit! They stared at each other for a few moments more and he could see it in her face, smug and satisfied, that she knew she was gaining on him. (Not that it was a competition or anything, except that it absolutely was a competition now and Ezekiel wanted to _win._ ) 

He took a few breaths to compose himself as best he could given the circumstances, scrambling to come up with something unexpected. 

Ezekiel leaned toward her, waiting for her eyelids to flutter—and when they did, thankfully predictable again, he swung his legs over the bench, turning himself around so he faced away from the table. Then he slid those few inches down, barely leaving any space at all between them, and leaned back so he could get a good look at her. Beat _that_. 

“There,” he said triumphantly, “now I can read it perfectly.” 

She inhaled sharply and made no attempt to hide the way she studied his body, twisting to track up his stretched-out legs, raking her gaze up his chest—deliberately elongated from leaning back, he knew what he was doing—to his neck, and lingering on his mouth. Her hands drew in, hovering by his shoulder but not touching him. She was so close, and so warm, and so hot, and—god, she smelled amazing. 

“But the book is behind you,” she said eventually, laughter in her eyes but a tremor in her voice. It was clear that neither of them cared about reading anymore. Ezekiel grinned, happy to be back on top—

“Actually, you know what?” Cassandra said, and then she was straddling his waist. 

Holy fuck. 

Ezekiel’s brain short-circuited at the contact. The heat surrounded him, her hands on his chest, her thighs on either side of his hips. He was distantly aware of his hands reaching up to hold her waist, keeping her there, pulling her close, and he thought he might have made a noise—he wasn’t sure. His eyes levelled on the skin of her chest, bare and flushed, and he dragged his gaze up over the column of her throat, her wet lips, and to eyes blown black with lust. 

Then Cassandra’s hips rolled once, experimentally, and Ezekiel fell back into his body with enough force to bruise. 

He couldn’t stop a groan as she ground down against him, finding him fully hard and hating those few layers of fabric between them. The table pressed uncomfortably into his back, but what did that matter when her hands were sliding up over the back of his neck and her fingers were tangling in his hair? Ezekiel wanted, no, _needed_ to feel her skin on his, needed to have his hands on her. Cassandra had the smile of a winner. Not for long. 

He wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her in, pressing a kiss to the skin of her chest and revelling in how _right_ it felt. The tingling inside him was comfortable now, a warm hum, as he trailed his lips between her breasts and up across her collarbone. This stupid shirt was in his way—but he could be patient, he thought, listening to her gasp as he kissed her neck. The taste of the salt on her skin was all he needed for now. He would draw it out as long as she could take it and then some. 

Well, first he’d get his hands on her skin, but then he would definitely draw it out. Tease her until she lost the game, lost her mind. He brought his other hand down and gripped her thigh—oh come on, was she seriously wearing tights? He frowned, trailing his fingers up under the hem of her skirt, hoping to find the spot where improbably long socks ended and skin began. He barely even noticed Cassandra’s adorable wiggle of pleasure. It seemed to be fabric all the way—that was entirely unfair, but he wasn’t willing to let go long enough for her to take them off. 

New tactic then, he decided as he resumed kissing the underside of her jaw. One of her arms was draped over his shoulder, hand resting on the table; her other hand cupped the back of his neck, holding him close, thumb grazing the shell of his ear. 

Ezekiel brought his hand back out from under her skirt, over the curve of her ass and the small of her back, feeling for her shirt so he could slip his hands beneath and finally touch her skin. He got as far as the fabric over her shoulder blade before he realized he’d missed somehow. 

Cassandra hissed with pleasure as he grazed the skin beneath her ear with his teeth, swirling his tongue over the same spot. He brought both of his hands down to her hips, only barely noticing the ache of being trapped in his jeans as she ground down again, and he drew his hands up her sides slowly, carefully, searching for the hem of her shirt. All he wanted was to trace the skin over her ribs, spread his hand over her back, slide his fingers beneath the strap of her bra, just to feel her skin on his— 

He pulled his face away in frustration, opening his eyes and glaring at her clothes to figure out what exactly was preventing him from doing so. He was met by the rise and fall of her chest as she laughed. 

“My shirt’s tucked in, genius,” said Cassandra, eyes dark and twinkling. 

“Man, I don’t know!” he spluttered. 

He laughed with her and assessed his handiwork. He’d spent too long on the same spot while focusing on her clothes; a mark was forming under her jaw, but she hadn’t told him to move. If he sucked on it he could darken it further, get it to bruise properly. He wondered if she’d be into that, to have a reminder for the next while that he had won their little game.

She rocked back a bit, assessing him in turn, and Ezekiel wondered what he must look like, if she took in his flushed cheeks and wet lips and thought that _she_ had won. He could feel the wet spot forming in his briefs and conceded that honestly, maybe she had. 

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” asked Cassandra, voice soft. 

“Nobody should ever wear tights from here on out?” 

“Hey, you’re the one wearing a belt.”

“So fewer clothes all around, then.” 

“And speaking of...” Cassandra nodded toward the bookshelves. Ezekiel followed her gaze, listening for the sound of footsteps travelling from shelf to shelf and hearing none. 

“You know what they say,” he said at normal volume, knowing Stone must be listening. “Six hands are better than four.” 

Cassandra grinned at him. “I don’t think anyone says that.”

“Well, they should. And I think you might want to check on our dear Jacob, since he’s been so _hard_ at work this whole time.”

She scoffed at his obvious innuendo but smiled, stepping back off his lap. He missed the contact instantly, the tingling under his skin becoming less warm and more urgent, but he ignored it in favour of leaning forward off of the table and rolling his shoulders out. 

“I’ll be right back,” she said, and left Ezekiel with the books. 

He palmed himself over his jeans, wincing at how hard he still was, no doubt thanks to the Eros Spores’ effect on his body. It’d be a few minutes at least for her to convince Stone to join them, so he decided to flip through some more books to calm down in the mean time. 

The book he ended up grabbing was the thin one with the recreation of the pottery shards in it, and with a distracted interest he flipped through until he found the image that matched the tray in front of him. 

“Ah,” he said, understanding why Cassandra had shut the book so abruptly: the image, shown in black and white within a decorative border of flowers, featured a large group of people of different genders, all nude, all enjoying themselves at what was clearly an orgy. One woman stood over the rest, surveying—maybe instructing?—as different configurations and combinations of people got it on. Ezekiel shut the book with a snap and grinned. 

This was going to be an interesting three hours indeed.


End file.
